A Game of Thieves
by ohhaymisskay
Summary: Sherlock never had a case so complicated as this. It touched every case he ever solved and every enemy he ever made. But the thing was as much as Eve Campbell molded herself into whatever she wanted to be...truth was she was just as alone as he. Because they were simply better than everyone else. And he needed her in order to solve the greatest of all cases yet. A Game of Thieves.
1. Thieves on Film

A/: So my life has basically been turned upside down for a while and I just never had to time to continue writing or well posting and editing it. But right now I have a day off and I figured I'd write a new story. I really wish my other computer was working cause I have all my saved work but right now I'm just using my dad's in the mean time till I have the money to fix it. But I'll try and get to work finishing all my stories. I'm so sorry I've been horrible about it. -ohhaymisskay

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**Sherlock: A Game of Thieves**

It was a boring mundane and absolutely ordinary day. The kind of day Sherlock Holmes despised and detested with every fiber of his being. He lay back on the familiar leather couch, hands folded in thought above his pursed lips and eyes staring heavenward. He had no cases and John was ever absent as of late. Sighing he reached for his phone in his robe pocket but then upon remembering he looked scathingly across the room where it sat at his desk next to his lap top. He glared at it and hoped someone would come home soon to hand it to him so he wouldn't have to get up and ruin his train of thought...not that he had much to think about but then at the same time his brain was running eight hundred miles an hour. He sighed and returned to staring at the ceiling before John came through the door carrying groceries.

By looking at his partner and all intensive purposes his only friend in the world, he noticed by the dew drops on the shoulders of his jacket it had lightly started to rain outside. By the mud at the heel of his shoes he deduced that John had walked a few blocks instead of taking a cab. Judging by the length of time he was gone he hadn't of walked more than a half an hour distance either way and there were only a few markets in that distance. Then John pulled out a few brand items and concluded he had just returned from Whole Foods that was the exact distance of time either way through Regents Park.

"You've been lying there since I left." John pointed out as he came into the sitting area. Sherlock rolled his eyes for he hated stating the obvious. They were a waster of one's breath.

"Brilliant observation. I didn't know I was lying here going out of my mind while you ordinary people point out the cold hard facts of the obvious. With skills like that we can solve anything!"

"Okay you're grumpy. And I don't appreciate the sarcasm." John returned to putting groceries away and Sherlock sat up swinging his long legs around before his bare feet hit the floor. He ruffled his curls in thought before he stood up and stroll over to his desk. Snatching up his phone he unlocked it before he began to search for the internet for cases. It was then his phone beeped and with eager fingers he opened the text message.

**_Meet me at the yard, there's a high profile case for you. -L_**

"John the game is afoot!" Sherlock yelled as he bolt into his room and not a minute later came blundering out dressed in black slacks, a plum button down and his peacoat and scarf in hand. He slipped his shoes on hastily and John came out and watched his friend scramble.

"We have a case?"

Sherlock paused and gave him a look and John rolled his eyes as he grabbed his own coat and followed the eccentric detective out the door.

Hailing a cab they slid in and were on their way to Scotland Yard.

"So what's the case about?"

"I have no idea." Sherlock said as he stared out the window watching the world pass by before him.

"That's not like you."

"I'm bored."

"What if it doesn't catch your fancy?"

"Lestrade said it was a high profile case. It must be important because he never gives away details over text unless this is the creme of the crop and requires my area of expertise. I'm intrigued."

The ride wasn't long, because they were used to it by now. When they pulled up they exited the cab and walked into the station. Many people gave them questioning if not glares since most did not like Sherlock and did not approve of John's association with him. They just made their way to Lestrade's office and he looked up from his paperwork at his desk and sighed.

"I wasn't expecting you two this soon." he said and Sherlock looked up in annoyance then back at the chief inspector.

"What high profile case do you have?"

"Well first thing first...this rap sheet is rather long." Everyone sat and Lestrade took the file from his stack and handed it to Sherlock. Sherlock opened it and gingerly flipped through photo's news clippings and Interpol faxed files. It was literally a novel in his hands.

"The name she is going by nowadays is Selena Kyle...fitting because she's a notorious thief."

"With a sense of humor." Sherlock mused.

"But the ground is growing thin for this one. Her real name is Eve Campbell. She's American, highly dangerous and wanted internationally."

"An international super thief. Yes, very intriguing." Sherlock agreed as he stared at the picture of the woman in the file before him. A heart shaped face, pixie like features, large eyes that where hazel and smoldering and long black hair.

"Well it gets better. She's a witness to murder. Last night at four in the morning she stole four priceless items from the British Museum while someone else was stealing a painting. They shot and killed a security guard."

"Sounds like you have two cases then." John said and Lestrade nodded.

"Yes but the murder would be more prudent to solve at this point."

"You must have proof she's a witness." Sherlock stated as he closed the file but gave no motion to give it back.

"We have rare footage of her." Lestrade turned the screen of his computer around and brought up a file as he pressed play on the museums security feed. There crouched behind a large statue was a woman in a black cat suit and night vision goggles. You could see three men enter and drop the guard to his knees. The statue blocked most of the carnage but the bright flash from the gun firing and the guards body falling was enough. Eve peered around the statue, not even flinching when the gun went off, and then skillfully darted as the motion sensor camera followed her as she climbed and scaled walls like a cat and was out a window into the night. The other thieves didn't even notice her presence.

The camera couldn't make out any face but her's for it was too pixilated and blurry as you looked into the background.

"Well it's too blurry to make anything out. Are you sure that this is Eve Campbell?" John asked what Sherlock was thinking. For once the both of them were on the same frequency.

Lestrade sighed as he pulled up another screen. It was a picture of a glass case where four Roman vases had been held and there in their place was a small figurine in the shape of a black cat.

"The cat is her signature. They're different every time and rather cheap, locally bought and all with cash. We tried getting leads off of them but it always just turns everyone around that takes her cases and leads them away from her trail. This is also the first time in three years anyone's gotten a glimpse of her or footage none the less."

"May we see the crime scene?" Sherlock asked and he stared intently at the screen. He needed to see all of this first hand.

Lestrade nodded as they got up and gathered themselves and Sherlock passed the Campbell file to John who held onto it and also made no move to give it back. John and Sherlock took a cab while Lestrade took his car and they made their way to the British Museum. Upon arriving there was press everywhere and up the front steps they made their way in passed the yellow tape and into the main atrium where the crime happened. Sherlock looked up at the large Statue of David before him and then began his inspection. Walking around the statue he looked up at the high ceiling and saw a camera. He stepped side to side and watched as it followed him and he then crouched down and examined the floor, the statue behind him and then the windows above him. He noticed on the white marble a slight scuff, it was faint but it was there and standing he placed his foot next to the scuff where a heel would have made the impression. So she wore heels...a fashionable thief, not exactly the most practical but it led him to believe she was concerned with appearances.

Walking to the pillar in which she climbed up and then looked up at the skylight she escaped out of he smirked. Her abilities were commendable if not a bit out of reach. He then made his way into the display room full of glass cases and examined the case that now held a single black cat figurine. He circled around the case as John and Lestrade walked into the room as well.

"We have no clue how she got into the case. The sensor wasn't tripped nor the glass cut." Lestrade explained.

"That's because she didn't infiltrate it from the inside. She went under the case, hacked into the panel and took what she needed. It was only a few seconds but to a thief that's all the time in the world to accomplish a task."

"How do you know?" Lestrade asked.

"Basement access. I noticed it when we first walked in. Only way in and out from under the museum. But she wasn't expecting other players and she was forced out of her hiding place. They tripped the alarm and so her method of escape led her to improvise. Hence whey we have rare footage of her that would otherwise not exist."

"How did she manage to take four vases out of the museum? They aren't exactly small." John said as he looked around at the other vases and items in the room. It wasn't like it was a small trinket of value.

Sherlock thought on it and grinned before turning around to the other two in the room. He took off for the basement access and when he reached the bottom level he started to walk around until he found what he was looking for. On the ceiling was a hole and on the ground was abandoned drilling tools and tech.

"She was here earlier this morning to retrieve her pay load. She knew she couldn't very well take them having the alarm being tripped like it was so she abandoned it all and opted to come back in plain sight."

"That's impossible the only people on scene are police and museum workers." Lestrade scoffed.

"Perhaps we should take a look at this mornings security footage then." Sherlock countered.

Making their way back upstairs, Lestrade asked the curator for this mornings security footage. The old man was much obliged and then led them to the security box were he pulled up the feed. Sherlock watched intently as employees and police scoured the place. He did a few clocks with the mouse before finding a camera angle that was pointing towards the basement door. Watching and waiting then the door opened and a woman stepped out dressed in a medical examiners jump suit and two bags in hand.

"Ms. Campbell walked right out the front door with the vases and no one though twice. It was risky but she is a professional after all. She's a grade above the rest and knows it."

"Dammit." Lestrade sighed. "Well can you find her?"

"I believe so. She would have abandoned her disguise at least three blocks from the crime scene. She needed a car. There's a parking garage a half mile from here. Come John we'll start there."

They took a cab to the parking garage and found in the side dumpster an abandoned medical examiners uniform. Sherlock examined it and then brought the collar to his nose.

"Chanel number five. She's a woman of exceptional and expensive taste."

They then proceeded to get the garage footage which took time because the attendant needed roof the were with the police. It took an angry phone call from Lestrade but eventually they found what they were looking for. A Rolls Royce and Sherlock memorized the license plate before setting off. He had a small window to find her before she was gone. And if he was so sure of her movement patterns he had seventy two hours till she would strike again and be lost to the world forever.


	2. Thieves in Disguise

A/N: Hasn't even been published for a full day and already got a review. Thank you kind reviewer for the review. I'm glad you liked it. I will be kind about this story it's my only focus right now writing wise so I'll be dedicated for as long as I can be while trying to figure out film school things and my own personal life. I haven't forgotten you all. -ohhaymisskay

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3 days ago...

Sherlock sat in his apartment staring up at the pictures and old evidence files that had been in Eve Campbell's file from Lestrade. He stared at her picture and then glanced over at the medical examiners uniform, then to the picture of the scuff mark on the marble and then at a picture from the security feed, blown up a bit and zoomed in on her face. He then tried to calculate and deduce what he had from her record.

She liked expensive things. So she was an expensive woman. She liked stealing high valued priceless items, well guarded and sealed, which meant her skills were above average and she liked everyone to know it. She also didn't just steal she was tactical, and good at physical combat. Records indicated she had left a private security firm incapacitated at an estate in Italy when she took photo's out of a safe for the mafia. She was dangerous there was no denying that. But something about her eyes made her seem much more than just a thief. Something lay underneath it all to cause her to do what she did.

She was an enigma.

John came in then as he was carrying take out and set it on the desk before looking at what Sherlock was doing. He didn't say anything as he knew that somewhere Sherlock was in his little mind palace working out all the small kinks in the case, organizing details and figuring out a mere woman.

"Anything?" he finally asked and Sherlock sighed.

"Nothing that I already didn't know. It's just tiring waiting for a damn APB on that Rolls Royce to come back from Lestrade. But I believe I can find her by other means as well. I just need to find a slip up in her get away tactics..."

John walked up to the medical examiners uniform and picked up up as he too pressed his nose to the collar and took a sniff. The smell of the perfume made the flat smell pleasant actually. It was a nice smell.

Sherlock then widened his eyes as he snatched the clothes from John and brought it too to his nose.

"Chanel number five. It's expensive."

"Yes you've said this before."

"There's a Chanel store not but ten minutes from here. They are only sold in certain department stores and online."

"How do you know this?" John asked as Sherlock went to his computer and input a search for the perfume and it's most popular locations. Sure enough, the Chanel store that was ten minutes away on Old Bond Street was the first choice.

"I obtained a bottle for Ms. Hudson last Christmas. She's a fan of Marilyn Monroe."

"Oh. Well that was nice of you." he walked over and studied the locations and saw that it wasn't far from the Museum either.

"She must be located in central London. She wouldn't go far...no. Not with her contacts and having to deliver her merchandise. But she needs to feed her expensive habits." Sherlock explained. He ripped the address off a piece of paper he wrote it on and bolted out the door leaving John to sigh and follow after him as usual.

They took a cab and upon arriving at the high end store they stood outside of it. Sherlock took no hesitation as he walked inside and to the front counter. The woman dressed in black with white blonde hair in a bob looked him up and down before addressing him.

"Can I help you gentleman?"

"Yes, we're detectives with the police ma'am."

"Oh?" she looked more attentive rather than bored and stood facing him meaning that he now had her full attention.

"I'm going to need a list of all the Chanel Number Five you've sold in the past week and the addresses as well. A suspect by chance bought a bottle from this very location."

"I'm sorry but it's against company policy to give out such information."

"Do I need to procure a search warrant?" Sherlock asked and the woman thought on it for a moment.

"No, let me go grab my manager and let her know. One moment."

The woman walked away and Sherlock looked over at John who was looking at an assortment of handbags. He plucked up a tag and then his eyes widened.

"Sherlock! This bag costs four thousand pounds!"

"I am aware. I can see the tag from here." he mumbled and just then from the back came another woman dressed all in black. She had striking red hair and glasses and her eyes were a soft brown. Her face however was very familiar but he couldn't place it. The woman shook his hand and in a thick French accent addressed him.

"Monsieur, I am the manager of this establishment. How may I assist you?"

"I am to need a list of your customers, preferably the one's that have bought Chanel Number Five in the past week. It's very prudent for a case we're trying to solve."

"May I see your credentials?"

"I have none...but I have a number you may call. The head detective at Scotland Yard." Sherlock took a card out of his pocket and handed it to the woman with fine french manicured nails and she took it from him, giving him a stern look before walking to the counter by the register and picking up the phone. She dialed the number and talked into it and ten minutes later came back and sighed.

"Alright, I will give them to you. But you are under no circumstances to say that you got these numbers, names and addresses from us. Is that clear?"

"Oui madame." Sherlock said and she nodded and shooed away the other girl. The manager who by her name tag was Sophie, obtained the records for him and Sherlock and John bid them adieu before walking down the street to the nearest cafe.

Once inside they were seated and John ordered a tea while Sherlock ordered nothing. He merely spread the list out and began to work through it before he pointed his finger down at a name.

"Selena Kyle." he said with a smirk. Before John had a chance to take the first sip of his tea, Sherlock was gone. Figuring he'd leave him to the hunting he continued to sip at his tea and took his phone out before replying to the text Mycroft had sent him ten minutes earlier while he was looking at prices of women's handbags.

Sherlock now was standing outside of a very expensive and tall apartment building called One Hyde Park. From his knowledge he knew that these flats went from 201 million in america dollars. How was he to get in however was another question. The security was tight and the staff went through a separate entrance. Walking into the lobby he decided to play his cards right. Walking to the concierge desk the man greeted him and he smiled as pleasingly as possible.

"Hello, I'm here visiting a friend of mine. I wasn't aware that I was going to have to check in."

"Yes, what is your name?" the man asked and Sherlock thought on it. If she had male company who would she put down as a name that wouldn't look suspicious.

"Bruce Wayne." he finally said and the man looked at him carefully before typing in the name and he nodded before handing him a card key.

"Ms. Kyle has left specific instructions for us to give you an extra key to her place. She said she'd be gone on vacation for a while and that someone would stop by to look after it."

"Thank you." Sherlock snatched the card from him and made his way to a glass elevator and made his way to the top. According to the apartment number she lived in a five room penthouse. Upon arriving at the door he pushed the card into a secondary lock slot and then pushed the handle down. Stepping inside was breath taking as it was finely furnished with many expensive decor. Everything was a light earth tone and black and glass cases held things she probably stole for herself. He was positive he saw a sarcophagus propped up against the main entrance wall as he passed.

As he made his way into the sitting area he saw a cat figurine sitting on the coffee table. Walking up he then saw a note under the figurine and gently he plucked it up out from under the small statue.

**_Nice try Mr. Holmes, you came very close. But I expect that you won't be giving up so easily. The perfume was a dead give away I'll admit. But take the night off, treat yourself. My home is your home. Hope to not be seeing you so soon again. -E.C._**

**__**Throwing the note on the coffee table he looked around the flat again and then made his way to look into the other rooms. He examined her bedroom, her make up brushes, shoe size, fashion choices, jewelry choices...until he found a little trinket on her bedside table. It was a watch. Silver and diamond encrusted and as he looked at the inside of it he saw an engraving.

"Love Sophie." Sherlock's eyes widened as he had a mental image of the woman at the Chanel store. He stripped away the glasses, the fake nose, the contacts and replaced it with black hair, hazel eyes and there before him was Eve Campbell. "Dammit."


	3. Thieves in Glass Cases

3 hours earlier...

Sherlock had just gotten done taking a shower as he was still at Eve Campbell's flat. He had taken up staying there because he didn't want to miss out if she came back, but he knew she was smarter than that. She had been right in front of his face and he didn't even catch on. Sure she looked familiar but his own brain and thrill of the chase had betrayed him. He decided to pick apart her apartment over and over again, going through her computer, her mail, her clothes again just to pick up on something. But he found nothing. Nothing he didn't already know once again.

But the perfume had been a clue. Maybe not a clue but she covered it up well and erased her tracks. Rubbing his chin he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge before taking out a water bottle. All were Voss, and in glass containers. He uncorked the grey top and took a swig before walking back into the living area. He plopped himself down on the leather sofa and wiggled around before finding it comfortable. It wasn't his couch but it would do. He closed his eyes and envisioned Eve walking about this flat, dressed in a black silk robe...the very same that hung in her bathroom on a hook by the door. He imagined her fingers curling around a wine glass, the only one that was lying on the counter in the kitchen, lip marks on the brim. He then took a remote from the glass coffee table and raised it up before clicking a button and the surround sound stereo system started playing Frank Sinatra's _Fly Me To The Moon_...at least she had decent taste.

He tapped his foot in rhythm with the song and closed his eyes as he continued to think. Something, anything that would come up. His eyes then shot open as he got up and walked back into the bathroom and then looked at the silk robe hanging by the door. It looked brand new, there was cherry blossoms stitched onto it and reading the label it was Japanese. Nothing else in her attire was this brand...so why was it there. Taking it he went to her laptop and then searched finding a page bookmarked on the internet. A Japanese exhibit at the Pitt Rivers Museum and only an hour away in Oxford. He took his phone and called up John and then called for a cab. He was positive tonight was his night. Seventy two hours at best...and he had nailed it down to the wire at three. He was brilliant.

Present...

Eve was currently sitting in a giant glass case with priceless Samurai armor sitting before her. It was a new delivery and on exhibit and her client had paid her a large sum of money to obtain this relic of the past. It was simple really, she had already bagged most of it up off the mannequin and dropped the black duffle bags down the hole she climbed up from. She had plenty of time to escape and get herself to safety but she was waiting for the main event. He had been following her for three days now and it was becoming tiring and rather annoying. But he was the first one to ever come as close as he did.

Sherlock Holmes...she wanted to meet him in person. Even if a shatter proof glass was separating them. Sitting on a rise the swords had been placed on she crossed her legs and took a compact mirror out of her catsuit pocket and flipped it open before taking lip gloss out of another and gently and slowly began to primp and reapply the sticky goop that made her full lips pop a little extra. That's when the doors to the hall opened and in stepped the man himself. He had a flashlight and his ever little sidekick at his side.

Eve grinned as she snapped the compact shut and slid it along with the gloss into her utility belt and slowly stood as he approached her.

"Well, well, so we meet face to face." she said her voice sultry and warm. It wasn't the voice he expected from an American.

"So it would seem."

"Well...you almost caught me."

"Uh, you're trapped in a glass case." John pointed out and Eve laughed a bit before she raised a finger and tutted him for being so wrong.

"I'm right were I want to be dear Mr. Watson. Oh yes...I know who you are. Now Mr. Holmes...I advise you to not look for me any further after this. You're bad for business.

"You're needed to solve the murder case at the British Museum." he said plainly.

"Yes, I know. Unfortunate thing that happened to that poor man. But it does not concern me. I was at the right place at the wrong time."

"You must have some idea who those thieves are?" John interjected and Eve rolled her eyes rimmed black with eye liner.

"If I did, I would have informed the police by anonymous tip. Thugs...barely functional thugs. No class, no style, and absolutely no regard for life. I may be thief but I'm not a murderer. They aren't apart of any circle I associate myself with."

Sherlock took that bit of information and stored it away in his memory banks. She had given him a clue. Eve gave him one last look over before she walked up to the case and pressed her lips against the glass leaving a glossy lip print.

"Goodbye Sherlock Holmes. This game of _cat_ and _mouse_ has been fun." and with that she took a few careful steps back and jumped straight down the hole at the bottom of the case and disappeared. He smirked as he walked up to the case and looked down the hole. She most certainly had a flair to her and such class.

He was even more intrigued. And he didn't miss her emphasis on the words cat and mouse. She most definitely had been waiting there for him, he hadn't caught up to her at all. In reality the cat indeed led the mouse right to the cheese. He looked up at the lip gloss on the case and then tossed his phone to John who caught it clumsily.

"Call Lestrade...tell him there was a break in. And that we have some evidence."

"We do?"

"I need some materials." was all Sherlock said as he put his hands in his pockets and walked away.

After the police came which was a bit out of their jurisdiction, none the less he was able to get a team on it and obtain a swab of the lip gloss from the inside of the case after it had been opened and dusted for prints...which of course there were none. Sherlock then pocketed his prize and he and John made their way to St. Bart's to do some work. Molly let them in and she flit around Sherlock as always trying to be sweet and gain his attention. She brought them coffee and tried to make pleasant conversation while Sherlock picked apart the DNA and the lip gloss from the swab. After their relentless talking he looked up at them and huffed.

"Will you two shut up." he groaned and both looked at him, John more annoyed than anything.

"Come on Molly, let's go out for a bite eh?"

"Is there anything open at this time?"

"I'm sure we can find something." John said as he gently pat her shoulder. The two walked out leaving Sherlock to his peace and quiet and the detective returned to his work. When he was done he had picked apart the chemicals in the brand of lip gloss used. It was Beige Songe 216 of Dior Addict found at Harrods nearby. Not but a half hour from this very hospital. Probably the least expensive bit of make up the woman owned.

It was her telling him she thought he was cheap. That her appearance to him meant little and it would always mean little. He didn't like all these private messages she was sending him. It was a stab at his intellect.

But she was gone and thus the trail ran cold. And for the next month and a half he would obsess over the one that got away.


	4. Thieves of Grace

A/N: I'm sorry I keep making Batman references. I guess my main character, Eve, is inspired a lot by the Selena Kyle/Catwoman character. A good role model I think. Also there is references to a real Gala that is held every year except for this year because I think it was too costly and it didn't seem appropriate since everyone's economy is so bad. I just put it on in this story...after all when you steal things for a living and are rich then it's only natural you want to spend it. And what better front than playing a socialite philanthropist. Arpand Busson is a real person as well he manages the Gala every year. He'll play a small part in this and in no way is it painting him in a negative light.-ohhaymisskay

It was a late afternoon as it had been raining profusely in London for three weeks straight. It put a damper on everyone's spirits, and Sherlock more often times than not would be found playing his violin staring out the window back home at 221B Baker Street. Tonight's tune was somber and reflective as the consulting detective tried to sooth his ever active thoughts. It wasn't helping and neither were the three nicotine patches on his arm. He was restless. Sure he had cases but this was different. It was almost like a nagging itch that burned under his skin. No matter how many times he scratched he could not get any satisfaction.

He was thinking about Eve Campbell of course.

It would be accurate to call her the one that got away but he had never really caught her to begin with. She hadn't contacted him, there was no whiff in the air of her and for all he knew she had left England entirely and took her business elsewhere. But that means he left the British Museum case wide open and still went unsolved. If there was anything that Sherlock hated also was a unsolved case.

John on the other hand saw his mood and almost docile nature. But he knew different...he saw his friend's thoughts painted on his sleeve. So John took to his blog. From time to time as he wrote a new chapter in his blog dubbed: Real Life Catwoman, he glanced up at Sherlock.

_"Sherlock continued to play the violin, tonight's tune sad and serene. I've never heard him be so quiet...usually he's talking up a storm or working on some project or other. I have only seen him be so wrapped up in a person once. And unfortunately for him she was deceased. But this one seems more safe and dangerous at the same time. All I know is that our case for the British Museum has gone unsolved and I don't think it settles well with Sherlock. In fact it really doesn't settle well with me. But what can you do about it. It all lies in the hands of London's own Catwoman."_

John finished his typing and looked up to see Sherlock had stopped playing. He set his violin down and looked up at the clock.

"I'm off to bed."

"Night." John said as he watched him trudge off to his room. When the door closed he sighed and went back to his blog.

But behind closed doors, the minute Sherlock turned on the light, there sitting on his window sill with a cigarette was Eve Campbell. She was dressed a little more demure, but still had on a black body suit made of leather and what looked like Kevlar embedded into said suit. She looked at him and smiled before taking a drag and then cocking her head slightly to the side.

"Hello Mr. Holmes."

"Ms. Campbell." he responded as he looked at her. He wasn't surprised but he was caught off guard.

"Turning in for the night?"

"I was, but a stray seemed to find it's way into my room."

"I'm far from being a stray. You know that."

He eyed her cigarette then and she grinned as she held it out for him. Taking the peace offering he stepped up to the window, coming close, and took a drag of it letting it wash over him. After about three drags he handed it back to her and for the next minute they pieced it before she flicked it out the window to the alley below. She then turned and sat facing him, her back to the sky and the moon over her shoulder. It illuminated the blue highlight to her black hair which was twisted into a ponytail.

"So what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh believe me the pleasure is all mine." she said and then reached into the folds of her cleavage and extracted a piece of paper. She handed it to him, of which he took and he opened it procuring a name.

"I thought you didn't care about what happened that night?"

"Well, I thought I'd reward you. After all you're the first to ever come so close and well...I've been reading Mr. Watson's blog. I gained a little insight to you and well, figured you weren't really out to snatch me up. I did a little digging and asking around. Those are your guys."

"Thank you. But they are going to come after you next."

"I know. They always do but they never come close. Just you. You're the only one that's as clever as I am."

"You think you're clever do you?"

"I know I'm clever. I'm damn good at what I do. Come now...if I really wanted to, I would have never let you catch wind of me. I would have darted the moment I let you into my flat. But it's rare I find someone with even half a brain. So to my surprise imagine how delighted I was that you have a whole brain."

"Flattered." he said monotonously. "Or perhaps the real reason is you like the chase."

"Doesn't everybody?"

"Not like we do."

"Oh so there's a we?" she pouted innocently. "Yes, I like the chase. But I love when you chase me. I haven't been this thrilled since I first started stealing things. Who know's one day you might catch me."

"Until that day." he said and she nodded.

"Yes, until the day Sherlock. Have a good night. Hopefully I'll see you around." she said as she fell backwards out the window and Sherlock rushed forward to look down but she was nowhere in sight.

He looked at the piece of paper in his hand and then walked over to his bed as he fell back onto it and stared up at it as he held it between his hands. He was about to get up and change when there was a sound of a cat meowing and he reached under his pillow to produce a black iPhone. He looked at it and unlocked it, having no pass code and saw a text message.

_**Bought you a new phone. Only use this to contact me if you have use of me. Be safe...the walls have ears. -E**_

He had to smile slightly at this. She must have known someone was bugging the flat. But why tell him something that he already knew? Was someone else watching him that he didn't know about?

Who else could there be? Moriarty was dead, he had no other enemies that would dare and Mycroft was the only one that frequently bugged anything...so who?

At that the phone meowed again and that's when there was a knock on his door. He knew very well who it was and just muttered "enter" before the door opened and John poked his head in.

"I swore I heard a cat." John said his brow furrowed and Sherlock sighed.

"Nope. Just your wayward imagination once again."

"I don't have a wayward imagination."

"Then you have schizophrenia and delusions of grandeur."

"I heard a cat."

"Phone." Sherlock said as he held up the iPhone and John looked at it curiously.

"Since when did you get a new phone?"

"As of ten minutes ago." he said and then not bothering to sit up he held up a piece of paper in the air. "These are also our killers from the Museum."

"How on earth..." then it dawned on John. "Eve Campbell was here wasn't she?"

"Yes, she, was." Sherlock didn't respond to her text about him checking the TV, he just stood up, strolled into the living room and darted behind the TV and moment's later came up with a camera the size of his palm. John looked at him from the entryway from the kitchen to the sitting area and looked at it questionably. "Seems brother dearest isn't the only one spying on me."

"Well do you know by who?"

"Not the foggiest." Sherlock then opened the window he was standing in front of earlier and tossed the camera to the streets below before dramatically closing it and heading to his room. "Night John."

"Uh...yeah night." John said still standing there looking mighty confused.

Across the street under the light post Eve Campbell watched as Sherlock had tossed the camera out the window and she grinned as she pocketed her phone and turned walking down the alley with a little bounce in her step. He trusted her...this was good. Perhaps she would get accomplished what needed to be accomplished after all.

The next morning while Sherlock and John were eating breakfast and Mrs. Hudson piddled around the kitchen the doorbell downstairs rang. Mrs. Hudson immediately went to see and then came up the stairs a minute later carrying a small parcel.

"Sherlock hunny, there's a package for you." she set it on the table next to his arm and Sherlock and John stared at it for a good minute. Taking a chance Sherlock took it and set it in front of him, bending down slightly to press his ear to it. Sufficient in knowing it wasn't ticking like a bomb he gently unwrapped it and then there was a box inside. Taking the lid off inside was a silk black tie and a velvet box that held obsidian and diamond cuff links as well as two tickets for the annual ARK Gala dinner that was held here in London.

"Let me see those." John looked at the diamond and obsidian cuff links and then Sherlock handed him the tickets. "Good heavens! These tickets cost at least 9,911 pounds!"

"Why do you always have to point out the cost of everything? And there's two tickets. So it's more like...you're right that is considerable amount of money."

"Who is this-wait do I even need to ask. It has to be your new girlfriend. What is it with you and dangerous women?"

"She isn't my girlfriend." Sherlock protested as he snatched the tickets away.

"The lady doth protest too much."

"Kettle...black." Sherlock hissed. "At any rate...I don't know what she wants us there for."

"Maybe you should read the love letter." John held up a slip of emerald and creme stationary and Sherlock snatched that away too as he read it.

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Mr. John Watson, you are cordially invited to the annual ARK Gala June 9, 2013. This event is a black tie affair. We encourage donations to be made at this event and do hope you can attend. Best regards, Arpad Busson."

"I don't think I even own a good suit." John said and that's when the doorbell rang and Mrs. Hudson went off downstairs and this time came up with two black hanging bags in each hand. One had John in gold print over the right side and the other had Sherlock.

John arose as he took one of them and opened it to reveal tuxedos.

"How does it feel to be a kept man Sherlock?"

Sherlock glared at him and merely shrugged.

"She sent you one too." he protested.


	5. Thieves Unraveled

It came the night of the ARK Gala and Sherlock was standing in front of the mirror trying to tie his tie, debating on what would look best. He normally wasn't one for looks, that's not what it was about...it was more along the lines of he refused to wear anything formal as a boy so he didn't know exactly what was best. No, this was definitely Mycroft's area of expertise. But he would be damned if he called his brother up and ask him how to tie a proper Windsor knot. John on the other hand was already ready and walked into his room as he studied his best friend.

"You need help?"

"No I have it." Sherlock said as he straightened the dinner jacket and then unbuttoned it to reveal the waist coat. He, Sherlock Holmes was wearing a damn waist coat.

"The cuff links look nice." John pointed out. "And the tie."

"It all feels ridiculous."

"We don't have to give the suits back do we?"

"I don't think so. Seeing as how she has more money than the Queen herself."

"Well it's almost time." he said as John checked his pocket watch that he had unearthed for this occasion. After all he was going to try and look his best.

"Alright then."

The two headed downstairs and Sherlock being himself grabbed his peacoat for good measure and slipped it on over his tux. As they stepped outside onto the sidewalk of Baker Street there waiting for them was a limo. The driver waited patiently as he then opened the door for them both.

"Ms. Kyle sent me to pick you up and take you both to the Gala. She would like it if you both were prompt."

"Oh right, a limo." John said sarcastically as he slid into the black vehicle and Sherlock slipped in after him. The door closed and they both looked at each other before John looked directly in front of him searching for some quip or something to say in general.

"You sure she's not your girlfriend?"

"Absolutely positive." Sherlock frowned as he rubbed his chin and stared out the window.

"Right."

The ride there was silent and when they arrived there was camera's and reporters and the minute they stepped out photo's were snapped of them entering. They walked up the stairs and into the Kensington Palace Garden's and inside was extravagant as people milled about in their best finery.

"Good lord is that Madonna?" John pointed out and Sherlock stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. He searched around the room spotting, The Duke and Dutchess of Cambridge also known as Prince William and Princess Catherine. There was many a celebrity here but off to the side with a glass of champagne in her hands was Eve Campbell dressed in a long white gown with fine swarovski crystal embedded down the train. She turned from her talk with Prince Harry to look at Sherlock and she smiled slightly. Excusing herself she walked towards them.

"Welcome to the ARK Gala gentleman. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, I don't drink." Sherlock said. "It befuddles my senses."

"I will have a scotch please." John said.

Eve hailed a waiter and ordered him a drink and gave him her glass as she did not wish to have her's any further.

"So why exactly are we here?" Sherlock asked getting straight tot he point.

"Why not? I paid for it, now have a good time. Make some friends. I'm sure the London Police Commissioner or the Queen herself might prove to be some very useful friends in the future."

"Did you say London Police Commissioner?"

"Yes, I did."

"Aren't you a wanted criminal...by Interpol and everything?"

"Oh I am. But see at these events I don't go by Campbell...I was actually born under the name Laverdiere. Evelyn Francesca Campbell-Laverdiere. My mother was Scottish and my Father was French."

"And Sophie is your sister...I should have pegged that seeing as it's a French name."

"Yes. Sophie is my sister. Estranged as is the rest of my family. But when you have a lot of money and you contribute that money to a good cause sometimes people look the other way for a short period of time."

"So you were born wealthy?" John asked and Eve nodded.

"I was born into one of the wealthiest families in France. I moved to America when I was eighteen to attend Dartmouth and when I graduated I kind of fell off the wagon so to speak. I was bored, I was tired and I needed something other than a business degree...so I stole things. I didn't need my parents money to be great...when I'm great all on my own."

"Dartmouth...I pegged you for Princeton." Sherlock mused.

"I was accepted into the best schools...Princeton was on the list. Anyways, I may steal things but what I do steal the majority I give back. Call it my modern day Robin Hood complex. Sure I keep some for myself but...that's a little too much money and I don't know what to exactly do with it all."

"And you go by Campbell to remove yourself from your family. Your mother mustn't have been wealthy then when she married your father?"

"No she was a curator at the Louvre. Originally Scottish she matriculated to Paris for her art studies. My dad was a contributor and he kind of feel in love. Long story short, they got married and nine months later had me, a year later my sister. One big happy family. So now you know my story...glad you came right?"

At that moment the waiter came back with John's scotch and Eve looked around at some of the dancing couples.

"Mr. Holmes, fancy a dance?" she asked extending her hand.

Not wanting to be rude, Sherlock accepted and was led away as they joined the throng of people and before they knew it he was leading her around the dance floor in a simple waltz, following the circle of others.

"I wanted to get you away from your partner for a moment."

"Hence why we are dancing. I take it you're going to share something with me?"

"I know who paid those idiots to break into the Museum...he had offered me a job before but I refused. I don't accept money from crazies, because that's exactly how this man came off."

"Who was it?"

"His name was Jonathan Masters or something of the like. He's the same man who hired those men. When I dug a little more it seems that the target was me. I had stolen information from this man at one point...and he did what he did to send a message. I'll help you, catch him, steal, manipulate, just to get him off my back. I can't do my job if every mark I make is sabotaged."

"And what's in it for me?"

"I'll let you catch me. You Sherlock Holmes get to redeem all of your past transgressions in the eyes of the public by catching one of the Worlds most notorious and dangerous thieves."

"What makes you think that I care what the public thinks?"

"You don't. But your boyfriend does."

"John shouldn't be concerned about trivial matters like that. It's a waste of time."

"Then how about satisfaction."

"It's not exactly satisfaction if you let me do anything Ms. Campbell."

"Well, I didn't say I'd stay captured now did I?" she smirked and Sherlock had to smile slightly as well. "Then you can go back to chasing me."

"Assuming I'd still have the same desire to?"

"Come now...you like me." she teased. "I'm a thrill to you. I'm dangerous, smart, cunning, powerful...why wouldn't you like me?"

"You're a case. Nothing more." he said looking about then back down to her.

"I'll take that as a yes." she said allowing Sherlock to dip her and bring her back up gently. "Do we have a deal?"

"I don't make deals with thieves and criminals."

"But I am a different sort of criminal. I mean look around you...these are my people. This is my world. But I put on a mask, a body suit, and armor and I become a part of your world. I walk the line but I'm a person...I have rules I follow. I don't like people tainting those rules. I especially don't like my work being messed with."

"You know what your fault is?"

"Hm?"

"Pride."

At that Eve laughed heartily and she nodded.

"Tell me something I don't know dear. Besides we could make a good team in the time being. I have a particular skill set even you have to impressed with."

Sherlock didn't say anything but just stared into her hazel eyes. He was impressed with her. She was powerful, proud and skilled. He knew that at any second she could slip out of his arms and never be seen again. And she was helping him solve more than one case at this point. The British Museum Case, the case of this mysterious person hiring people to sabotage Eve and then catching Eve herself.

"You could have just called me and told me this rather than invite me to this overly extravagant event."

"I wanted to see you in a tux." she said coming closer as she whispered part of it in his ear. He closed his eyes and turned his head as he rest his cheek against hers. It was intimate but they were merely sizing each other up. Eve looked around the room and spotted someone looking in their direction. When she caught his eye he turned and drank from his cup, trying hard not to look conspicuous. "It seems we've been followed."

She turned them to give Sherlock a view and he hummed in his compliance, not wanting to give away them talking.

"Enjoy the rest of the party Mr. Holmes. Give John my best, and perhaps a good night kiss." she stood on her tippy toes and pressed her lips to his cheek and he let her go as she slipped away and down the hall, making her way to the gardens and out of sight.

As Eve exited the banquet hall she walked along the pool and gardens. Someone stepped out onto the pathway and she paused as she looked him in the eye.

"Hello love." he said to her and her lips pursed.

"Well...you're looking spry for a dead man." she said casually and he looked at his nails casually as he picked at it and then walked up to her before grabbing her roughly around the throat and dragging her behind a hedge. Under normal circumstances she'd never let a man touch her the way he was but judging by the infrared sight on her bosom aimed right at her heart she didn't dare retaliate.

"Cozying up to Sherlock are we?"

"I did as you asked. Now release my sister." Eve said and he let her throat go but the red dot still remained on her chest.

"Hm I'd hate to spoil that lovely dress of yours. It hugs your figure so well." he said looking her up and down as he reached out and grabbed her chin and made her look him closer in the eyes. "But if Sherlock even gets one sniff, your sister will die, and I'll make sure there's blood staining this dress and your hands. Are we clear my pet?"

"Crystal."

"And you didn't tell him a name?"

"No. No name...just the names of those men you hired."

"Good." he let her go and then straightened out his suit jacket. "Very good. Well...I'll leave you to it then. Make sure you check in so often. Wouldn't want you running off on me now."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll be seeing you soon."

At that, this thorn in her side of a man walked away not before he took something out of his pocket and threw it behind him. With a saunter in his step and as he disappeared around a corner the red sight on her chest did too. She slid down to her knees and looked at the picture her employer had dropped. There sitting on a chair with a gag in her mouth and blood running down the side of her face, scared green eyes staring at the camera was her sister. Eve clapped a hand over her mouth and tried her hardest not to cry. She was going to make someone pay for hurting her and mustering up all her courage and strength Eve stood up and disappeared. She may have been estranged from her family but there was nothing she wouldn't do for them if the opportunity presented itself. She had been exploited for her only weakness and that was her darling little sister.

She just hated that she had to damn a good man like Sherlock Holmes in the process.

* * *

A/N: So who could this mystery man be? Who could knock a woman like Eve around like that, manipulate her and Sherlock and all the while remain in the shadows? I'll leave you to your speculations. And yes if anyone is wondering I've jumped into Series Three and well past the Richenbach Fall. And if you guys are wondering I might add another "Woman" to the mix soon.


	6. Thieves Under Pressure

A/N: Any guesses to who the mystery man is? I feel like I wrote it too transparent, and I don't believe I'm too clever with clues. It's so hard writing plot lines that are clever like the TV series. I'm trying my hardest to capture that clever nature and wit and translate it well into my own story. Anyways I've been browsing fanfiction and I see a lot of 'Thief' arcs on here. I suppose my idea was far from being original. I feel like that's a arc we are missing though...and sorely wish that Moffat will add a character like that into it. And bring back a certain dominatrix. Anyways...I hope this story is good. I think about it when I'm at work and think of the detailing. I thought I'd make Eve rich aside from her being a thief because it stems away from the archetype of her being too closely related to Catwoman...which of course then we'd tread into crossover territory and I want the character to stand alone. You'll find her character develop soon...she's got some tough choices to make in the future. Hope to see some more reviews from more than one person (btw you're an awesome fan! thank you for reading and reviewing each chapter. you know who you are ;]) -ohhaymisskay

* * *

Eve sat in a cafe lightly sipping on a cup of earl grey. She was waiting patiently for someone as she scrolled through her phone. Deciding a mid morning text message wouldn't hurt she began to type it out her black nails gliding over the touch screen of her iPhone.

**_Good morning handsome, hope your days have been well since the last we saw each other. Having tea with an old friend...maybe we should get lunch together soon. Talk about a few things. Let me know when you're free to slip away from your boyfriend. -E_**

At that a figure sat down in the seat across from her and she removed her fur coat and slung it on the back of her chair, settling her clutch down next to the empty plate, she removed her gloves and next her sunglasses. Eve smiled and so did this woman.

"It's been a while." Irene said as she crossed her legs and leant on her palm as her elbow rested on the table.

"It sure has. I've missed you."

"And I've missed you. So tell me, what has prompted this little tet-a-tet. I'm supposed to be in hiding love."

"Well I know you'd come out of the woodwork sooner or later, whether it be for Sherlock or for me."

"So you know?"

"About your time with him, how he saved your life...how could I not."

"And what about you?" she said her eyes narrowing slightly. "You don't normally trivial yourself with men like him. Much less lead them on in a game...so what is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Eve reached down and took the cup with her left hand instead of her right and Irene watched her with candor of interest. Irene nodded and hailed a waiter as she ordered her own cup of tea and a scone and Eve settled her cup down next to her saucer instead of on it.

"I see." Irene said gently as the waiter walked away. "Well I'm glad we get to see each other none the less. I can honestly say you're my only good friend. We're so much a like you and I."

"Well...except I'm the only person that is in your acquaintance that you still don't know what I like."

"My only exception." she chuckled. "Well...what would you like me to say to him?"

"If you can. Everything." she muttered. "I want him to..."

"Right." she nodded. And Eve took off her watch and handed it to her friend. Irene rolled it in her fingers and then looked at the inscription on the inside. She then opened her clutch and stuck it inside and the two continued on in plain speak rather than code that they were speaking before.

Even though Eve was ambidextrous she preferred her right hand the most. Using her left indicated she had her hands tied with something. Her one worded response and deflecting to take a sip of her tea definitely indicated that there was something wrong and that they were being watched and listened to. The reference to the only good friend that Eve had in Irene was the fact that it was true but also the fact that their associations with Sherlock was the present being that Eve wanted Irene to turn to. He would be able to figure it out. By giving Irene the watch her sister had given to her as a eighteenth birthday present six years ago would let Sherlock know it was indeed about her kidnapped sister.

Irene also understood these little signals. But they opted to discuss other matters. Some about their lives, their travels, people they've met...but then they came back to subject they both could relate to.

"And what about Jim?" Irene asked and Eve clenched her jaw for a moment and shrugged as she took a sip of her tea. That's when Irene knew who this all was really about and she looked at her clutch as her eyes widened.

"Sophie?"

"She's well. In France with Mama and Papa." Eve lied out through her teeth and then glared at Irene for bringing her name up. If someone heard they would be dead on the spot. Irene swallowed hard and took a sip of her own tea.

"I see...well I have to be going." Irene said getting up. She pulled her gloves back on, her jacket and replaced her sunglasses. Strutting out of the cafe then Eve settled back in her chair and at that moment a text came in. Picking up her phone there was an address and the name of another cafe closer to Baker Street.

**_I will meet you at Cafe Mormont...it's French...someplace you'd feel more comfortable I assume. See you in an hour. -S_**

Clenching her phone Eve forwarded the text to Irene and then stood up paying the bill before walking out and disappearing.

Irene who was not being followed had taken a cab to the location that was given to her by Eve and walked into another cafe. It was more private but she spotted Sherlock easily. It was surprising to see him alone but she strolled over to the corner booth and slid into it. Taking off her sunglasses as she did so. Sherlock looked at her surprised to see her and he looked around before looking at her.

"I assume Ms. Campbell is not coming then?"

"No...darling Eve is a little tied up at the moment. And fortunately for her, not by me."

"What do you want?"

"I come bearing a gift." Irene took out of her clutch the watch and slid it across the table in front of Sherlock. He looked at it curiously, his memory flitting back to Eve's flat as this very watch had also been the clue for him figuring her out in disguise.

"The watch her sister gave her?"

"Her sister has been kidnapped Sherlock. I don't know for how long but Eve isn't normally one to ask for help."

"But she asked you? I take it you're old friends?"

"Yes. She's helped me out a few times, I've paid her of course. But during that time we've developed a trust. One that isn't easily broken...and one formed out of survival. She made a huge risk reaching out to me. She's trying to save you."

"Save me from what?"

"I can't say out loud in case we are being listened in on. But by giving this to you, we're hoping you can figure it out. After all like I said before, smart is the new sexy." she said coyly and Sherlock gave her a hard look before looking at the watch again as his fingers picked it up and he examined it closely. "Eve also wouldn't come out and say it, but she likes you I think."

"Oh?"

"Normally she wouldn't give a rats ass about burning you Sherlock. She'd leave you in the dust and probably watch it settle around your dead body. But she is trying to warn you about all this and save her sister. And her sister is the only bit of family that still acknowledges her presence in this world. Sophie means everything to Eve."

"Do you have more information?"

"No. But you've been forewarned."

"Alright."

"Give dearest Eve my best. I have to get running again. Lots of people to escape from." she said as she stood. "Goodbye Sherlock."

"Goodbye Irene." he said and Irene placed a hand on his shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze before she set off and out of the cafe. Sherlock wished half heartedly that Eve had shown up for their meeting, but he could see why she couldn't.

Hopefully this put them one step ahead of their enemy. Whoever this enemy was.


End file.
